Arthur had spent decades working on the estate, nurturing the land, and caring for the garden he loved so much. It was more than just a job to him; it was a life, a life he had shared with old Mr. Jared, the estate’s former owner. But now, everything was about to change. The young heir, Stuart, was coming home, and Arthur knew that his time here might be coming to an end.
Arthur was kneeling in the east garden one afternoon, his hands deep in the cool soil, planting bulbs for the upcoming season. His mind wandered back to the good old days when things were easier, and the garden was full of laughter and peace. But suddenly, Margaret, one of the kitchen staff, came rushing toward him, her face full of worry.
“Arthur, have you heard?” she said, breathless. “Mr. Stuart is coming home today. He’s taking over everything.”
Arthur nodded slowly, keeping his focus on the task at hand. “Yes, I heard,” he replied softly, not looking up. Deep down, he’d been dreading this day ever since old Mr. Jared passed away. For years, he’d worked on this land, feeling the soil under his fingers, watching the seasons change. The estate knew his steps better than any other place in the world. And now, Stuart was coming home to claim what was his.
“What will happen to us?” Margaret asked, her voice small and full of concern, as if the entire estate could collapse with just the news of Stuart’s return.
“We do our jobs,” Arthur said simply. “That’s all we can do.” But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her how much his heart ached at the thought of losing everything he had worked for, everything he had built with Jared.
He missed Jared more than he could put into words. Jared had been more than just an employer to him — he had been a friend. They had spent hours together in the garden, sharing stories, laughter, and even moments of quiet. They had built something beautiful in that garden, something Arthur had always cherished.
“Grandpa, I finished my homework. Can I help with the planting?” Arthur’s grandson, Eli, called out from the edge of the garden. Since the tragic accident two years ago that had taken Eli’s parents, Eli had been the reason Arthur woke up each morning. Eli was a smart, studious boy with a passion for books, and Arthur had taught him everything he knew about gardening.
“Sure, come on over. We’re planting the spring bulbs,” Arthur said with a smile.
Together, they worked in silence, but suddenly, the sound of a car driving up the gravel driveway interrupted their peaceful moment. Arthur looked up, and there, standing by the door of a sleek car, was Stuart. He hadn’t seen him in years, but Stuart still had that same arrogant look in his eyes, the same air of entitlement.
“Is that him?” Eli whispered.
Arthur nodded. “Yes, that’s him. Stuart.”
“Remember what I told you,” Arthur said quietly, glancing at Eli. “Be respectful, keep your distance, and—”
“Never let anyone make me feel small,” Eli finished, nodding as he remembered the words Arthur had taught him. “I remember, Grandpa.”
The next few weeks with Stuart in charge were even worse than Arthur had feared. Stuart wasn’t just a poor replacement for his father — he was cruel, impatient, and quick to judge. The staff walked on eggshells, afraid to make any mistake, while Stuart’s parties grew louder, and his friends more reckless. They tore through the garden in expensive cars, knocked over planters, and didn’t care about the damage they caused.
One afternoon, Arthur was pruning the hedges when Stuart walked up to him, pretending not to recognize him. “Arthur, isn’t it?” Stuart asked, as if he’d never seen him before. “The gardener my father was so fond of.”
“Yes, sir,” Arthur replied, trying to keep his tone respectful.
“These hedges look uneven,” Stuart declared, looking at the plants with a critical eye. “And those roses are half dead. My father may have tolerated mediocrity, but I expect excellence.”
Arthur bit his tongue. “I’ll see to it right away, sir.”
“See that you do,” Stuart said coldly before walking away. Arthur’s heart sank, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He needed this job. He couldn’t afford to lose it.
As the weeks went by, things only got worse. Stuart’s behavior became more erratic, and his temper more unpredictable. Then one morning, Arthur was preparing to compost the garden beds when he heard heavy footsteps approaching. He looked up to see Stuart storming toward him, his face flushed with anger.
“You! Old man!” Stuart shouted, his voice full of fury.
Arthur stood up slowly, his knees protesting, and greeted him with a calm, “Good morning, Mr. Stuart.”
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me,” Stuart snapped. “Did you see what happened to my car? Someone scratched the paint. Was it your grandson? That quiet, sneaky kid?”
“Eli was at school yesterday, sir. He’s been there all week for the summer program,” Arthur explained, trying to stay calm.
“Well, someone did it,” Stuart growled. “And since you’re supposed to be watching this place—”
“I’m the gardener, sir. Not security,” Arthur said, his patience wearing thin. He instantly regretted his words, but it was too late. Stuart’s face twisted with rage.
“You know what? I’ve had enough of your attitude. You think because my father liked you, you’re untouchable? You call this work?” Stuart kicked at a pile of weeds Arthur had pulled. “My dog could rake better than you! You’re nothing but a leftover from my father’s pity. Consider this your last day. I want you off my property by sunset.”
The words stung, but Arthur kept his expression neutral. He was too tired to argue. As Stuart stormed off, Arthur felt a strange calm wash over him. Maybe it was for the best. He took off his gardening overalls and made his way to the one place he needed to be — the garden he had tended with Jared.
As he knelt by the flowers, Arthur whispered, “I’m sorry, Mr. Jared. The least I can do for you before I go is clear away the weeds.”
But as he worked, something caught his eye. A patch of ground had been disturbed, and though it wasn’t recent, Arthur knew someone had been digging there and left the bulbs to die on the surface. Intrigued, he dug into the earth with his hands and soon felt something hard beneath the soil.
He cleared away the dirt and uncovered a small wooden chest with a simple latch. His hands trembled as he opened it. Inside, neatly arranged, were bundles of cash, small gold bars, and a folded note in Jared’s handwriting.
“This is for you, friend. I know you need this! I love you. Your friend, Jared.”
Arthur’s eyes filled with tears as he held the note to his chest. Even in death, Jared had looked out for him. The cruel irony wasn’t lost on him — being fired had led him to this discovery, a final gift from a true friend.
Arthur left the estate without saying another word to Stuart. The next day, he went to the bank and opened a safe deposit box. He transferred everything from the chest into it and placed it in Eli’s name — not for now, but for his future.
Arthur found work maintaining the grounds at the local high school. The pay wasn’t much, but it was honest work, and it allowed him to be close to Eli during the day. Over the next two years, Eli thrived in school, excelling in his classes and even earning a spot in a summer science program. Arthur couldn’t have been prouder.
One evening, as Eli came home with his acceptance letter, he looked up at Arthur and asked, “Do you think Mr. Jared would be proud of me?”
Arthur smiled softly. “Yes, I think he would be very proud.”
Meanwhile, news of Stuart’s downfall reached Arthur through Margaret. His recklessness had caught up with him. He lost everything — the estate, his wealth, his friends. The bank was selling the property, and Stuart was moving out.
“That’s a shame,” Arthur said when Margaret told him the news.
“A shame? After how he treated you? Arthur, you’re too kind for your own good,” Margaret said, shaking her head.
Perhaps Arthur was too kind. But bitterness wasn’t something he could afford, not with Eli watching and learning from every word and action. One evening, as they walked to the park, Eli asked about the box Arthur had brought from the estate.
“When are you going to tell me what was in that box, Grandpa?”
Arthur looked down at Eli, now a young man, and smiled. “When you’re ready,” he said. “When the time is right.”
“And when will that be?” Eli asked, his curiosity growing.
“When you’ve built a foundation strong enough that it won’t change who you are,” Arthur replied, squeezing Eli’s shoulder gently. “Some gifts aren’t meant to be opened right away.”
As they continued their walk, Arthur thought about Jared, the garden, and the seeds they planted together. Some grew in the soil, others in the hearts of the people they touched. And those seeds, he knew, would last long after they were gone.
